Martyr Babble (Poem)

most humanoids seem reliable
not me ofcourse
i'm different
like everyone else
in some context or way
the reliable ones are safe
they are safely netted from falling down to sufferable states
which happens to be my spiritual domain, and general inhabitance
through the 'so called' drudgery of days

they call it something fearful
but they don't realise it's potential
because
they are not potent in this path, of introversion
their way never concerned the path
it is a rare one
i certainly am
and it is my personal spiritual domain
the downed state of being
with an overload of imagery to pick from
i am one that has become experienced in observation
although they can read me through if i let them
i do not wish it
it's my own state, and i will never allow illumination
it would reveal a vulnerable me
that the others could observe
a mind of a martyr
whom people could infuse their spirit onto
and dowse me with their personal consort
and cleanse me, and redeem me
as if i was sickeningly corrupted
so i can kneel down in repentance
and show gratitude as a newborn child
and lose my monochrome and dark state
replaced with the colours they spoke of
that become me as one of their newborn

but i never sought to delve into the general
or piss through the mainstream
and be the statist they heed us to stay as

you do not know who they are
but as with many things, i assure you
they exist
the ones who wish to leash us compassionately
but have intentions bolder and grander
than ancient rome, with it's grand colosseum

therefore
i create illusions
keeping everyone wondrous, scratching their head
they are not nostradamus
i am better off safe like this
so i can grasp their wondrous images of fuzzy confusion
and smile for a day or two, or maybe through the whole week
these are humans unlike me
sheeped and controlled by the man with the stave
who may oversee more than enough
than his moral values can allow
he or she, is just as corrupted
as the disease they believe i am afflicted by

but i am the human unlike them
and i do not wish to be cleansed or purified in a shrine

i accept that we only share existence
and it is enough for us to exist together
needless to communicate
for me
existing is more than enough
the 'so called' gift of life
or rather a curse